It's Just Business
by DaddyDrooks01
Summary: The GTA story that I finally got around to writing. This is the story of a contract killer and his journey through the underworld of Los Santos. Follow his story of the ultimate mistake that pits him against his rival killers who he once called friends, and a mob boss out for blood.
1. chapter 1

A.N. I told you guys that I would be making a story set in the Grand Theft Auto universe. Well, here it is. I think that all my characters will be OC's, with possibly some mention or interaction with the actual characters of the series.

I should mention now, that I in no way own the Grand Theft Auto universe, nor any of the canon characters from the games. The own thing I own is the ideas of my OC's.

All that being said, I hope you enjoy the ride.

It's Just Business: Part 1- Silence and White Noise

I remember being told by a friend of mine once, that silence is supposed to be golden, yet the hustle and bustle of everyday life means that very few people recognize just what true silence is. Certainly, I thought I knew what true silence was, but that same friend showed me just how wrong I was.

Because true silence is not shutting the door to your apartment after a particularly harrowing day at work. True silence is not just silence of the world around you, it is the silence of your mind and emotions as well.

The only time I can recall experiencing true silence is immediately after I carried out my first contract killing. It was very amateurish in its execution, looking back. I was being paid twenty thousand dollars to knock off a drug dealer that had started getting a little too aggressive in his expansion of his territory. It took place in a small apartment in Broker. I had snuck in through an open window eariler in the day and injected a heavy sedative into the target's dinner which had been reheated while he watched Princess Robot Bubblegum. I hid in his bathroom while he ate and was moving towards the kitchen when the phone in his bedroom rang. I had darted back into the bathroom as he walked into the bedroom from the dining room. I had intended to wait until he had finished his phone call before I was going to snuff him, but as he walked past the bathroom door he glanced back and noticed that it was ajar. He had moved into the bathroom and had come face to face with me.

In my defense, I had been caught off guard and was too slow to stop him from pulling his gun. I was quick enough to slam the edge of my hand against his throat, however, which temporarily crushed his windpipe and knocked his aim off enough to miss me completely and hit the mirror, which splintered the glass. Even though he was fighting for breath, he still tried to fire another shot.

I say tried, because I managed to put my thumb over the hammer just as he pulled the trigger. I had twisted the gun from his grasp and had, as if automatically, stuck the muzzle into his gut and fired. As he fell back against the shower's glass door, I knew I had to finish the job, so I raised the gun and shot him twice in the chest. He began to choke on the blood in his throat, which squeezed the little sympathy I had for this guy out in the big action of me raising the gun one final time and shooting him through the head.

As I fell back against the sink, I watched the blood slowly begin to trickle down his face from the small 9mm hole in his forehead, and felt the entire world fall quiet around me. My mind and emotions completely disappeared as I watch the blood drip from his chin onto his white tank top.

How long I sat there for, I don't know. But I do know that I eventually began to hear sirens and that's when my mind kicked back into gear.

Everything screamed at me to run.

So I did.

Keeping a firm hold on the pistol, I ran from the bathroom and jumped out of the same window I'd come in through, falling about three metres onto a roof. I quickly made my way down the fire escape of the building, jumping from the final flight of stairs and rolling as I hit the ground, springing up and clamoring into my car as I pulled out onto the street, barely getting fifty metres before I saw police flying past on the other side of the road, lights and sirens blaring.

A.N. Well, that's the first chapter for you guys. I hope you enjoyed. For the next chapter, I will be shifting into Los Santos, and the present day. For those that weren't aware, this chapter takes place in Liberty City in about 2014. The next chapter will take place in 2017.

Again, I hope you enjoyed. Until next time, guys. I'm out.


	2. chapter 2

A.N It's amazing how much you can be motivated to write another chapter of a story when you're facing a 12-15 hour bus ride back into your home state. With that being said, here's the second chapter for you guys. Also, I should mention, I do not own GTA nor any of it's locations or characters. The only thing I own is the OC's in this story.

It's Just Business- Part 2

The poor bastard never saw it coming.

Actually, I tell a lie. He did see it coming, but by the time he noticed, he was far too late to stop the razor-sharp blade of the knife from severing his carotid artery and piercing his windpipe.

Although, to his credit, he did react quick enough to suprise me when he brought his gun up suddenly and made to fire in the direction of my skull. The only thing that stopped the round from meeting it's mark was the fact that my reflexes kicked in and closed my hand around his wrist.

I felt the glancing blow across the back of my thumb's knuckle as the slide kicked back and glided forward to chamber another round. I never gave him the chance to fire again. I adjusted my grip so my thumb closed over the hammer and twisted his wrist backwards so that it broke with a sickening crunch.

As I released his wrist and heard the gun clatter to the ground, I relinquished my grip on the kinfe and cupped that hand under his chin. Bringing my other hand to rest on the top of the rear of his head, he realized my intentions instantly and raised his unbroken hand to grasp my arm in a rather feeble attempt to stop what immediately followed. Wrenching both hands in opposite directions, I cleanly snapped his neck, letting go of his head to let his lifeless body topple to the road below.

"Next time try to disguise the fact that you have a law enforcement issue high powered automatic weapon in your possession." I said to the figure in all black and wearing combat boots. Said figure began to rise up off his knees and scooped up the rifle as he did so.

"Normally a weapon drawn call dictactes a Code 3 response." The figure said, replacing the rifle behind his shoulder, his knowledge of police codes and dispatches as wide and complex as my own. "I wasn't expecting them to roll up going Code 2 and suddenly materialize behind me to arrest me." He said, getting more and more defensive by the second.

"Regardless." I said, cutting him off as he made to continue speaking. "We now have a slight mess on our hands, so let's clean up and be quick about it. Yes?"

"Fine." He said, looking slightly put out as I nodded and leaned down to scoop up the corpse at my feet.

Making sure that none of my hair or skin made contact with his clothing or body, I lifted him over my shoulders and carried him over the curb near his vehicle, where his friend lay dead also, a single bullet hole through his chest.

Placing him down gently, I glanced from him to his buddy, trying to gauge if the angles and distance were right and came away satisfied.

"And the point of all this?" My companion asked, looking skeptical and slightly annoyed.

"The point of all this will be clear in a minute. Wait here." I said, retrieving the pistol belonging to the body against the car.

Scaling a wall close to the road, I soon found what I wanted. As my foot made contact with the mobile, the owner looked up fearfully as I grabbed a fistful of their shirt and pulled them to their feet.

Leading them out to the road near the bodies of the officers, I squeezed their shoulder and walked around to the front of them, raising the dead cop's sidearm and pulling the trigger, stepping back to avoid the spary of blood as the bullet passed through the unfortunate woman's skull.

Pressing the gun into the hand of the officer I had taken it from, I smiled briefly before saying, "Nice shot buddy."

"Now do you understand what I'm doing here?" I asked, walking back to the woman and placing my knife in her left hand.

He waited until I had placed the gun of the officer who had been knifed in her right hand before saying anything. "I think so." He said "Is the idea that the woman killed both cops?"

"Exactly." I said, stepping back to where he was to admire my work. "The plan is that when the coroner shows up, they'll come to the conclusion that the woman stabbed the cop in the neck, before drawing his gun and shooting his parner here in the chest. The woman was killed when the partner managed to draw his sidearm and shoot her through the head."

"Right." My companion said, looking confused at first, before working it out. "And how do you explain the partner's death?" He asked.

"Hopefully it'll look like he bled out soon after shooting the woman." I said, feeling confident that I had at least done enough to confuse the investigation.

"And how will it look when they run the ballistics and figure that the wound and the rounds from the cop's gun don't match each other?" He asked, looking slightly smug that he had outsmarted me.

"I don't think that there'll be that much of a discrepancy. After all, the only difference between the rounds that the police use and what I use is that mine are hollow-points." I said, hoping that that wouldn't prove a problem.

As I was contemplating that, I heard sirens break out in the distance. Deciding that it was time to leave, I turned to my companion and friend, flicking my head towards a nearby alley and multi-level carpark.

Turning on heel, I ran across the road with Luke, clamoring over the high wall of the carpark and onto the first level.

Moving quickly and keeping low, we eventually drew level with my armored Enus Cognoscenti 55. Pulling open the door, I reached through the car, snagging Luke's rifle before he could react and putting it in the backseat footwell.

Answering his unspoken question as I started the car and pulled out of the carpark and onto the street, I waited a beat before saying, "We're fleeing the scene of a triple homicide, I think we had better keep your gun hidden."

Not waiting to hear a response, I gunned the engine, the car responding near instantly as it flew across the intersection and out onto the highway.

"Do you think that Riley will be there already?" Luke asked, looking around as a cop car came flying around the corner towards the crime scene.

"Knowing Riley he's already blown half the building apart and is currently locked in hand-to-hand combat with person or persons unknown." I said, cycling my pistol before turning a corner, almost hitting a tree in my haste to get to him before Merryweather or the cops did.

A.N And that's another chapter down! I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves and enjoying the story.

Until next time.


	3. chapter 3

A.N I don't know if any of you guys have ever been crammed into a bus to drive about 12-15 hours on a interstate trip in about 25 degree heat, but if you have, you'll know what I'm talking about when I say "I'm fucking boiling right now!" Anyways, I don't own GTA yadda, yadda, yadda. Enjoy guys.

It's Just Business- Part 3

To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

Not only was the building completely intact when Luke and I arrived, Riley was nowhere to be seen and the security guards showed no signs of being on alert. In fact, they were patrolling like this night was no different from any other.

Apart from the slightly odd sight of two fully grown men in a clearly modified sports car flying around the corner like their partners had gone insane and were trying to turn them into trifle.

When I saw no destruction or disturbance of any kind, I immediately slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt with the tryes smoking and howling all the while. Trying my best to not appear like I had just escaped from a mental asylum, I pulled in to the curb and wound down the window as I stuck my head out the window slightly to talk to the guard.

"Pardon me my friend." I said, giving my voice a slight English accent. "Have you by any chance seen a blue Bravado Buffalo come through here earlier today?"

"Matter of fact we did." The security guard said. "Just a few hours ago actually, they came ripping through much like you were."

"And which way did they go?" I asked, relief lighting my face when he pointed down towards where I was already facing. "Thank you my friend."

Planting my foot to the floor, I waved farewell and wound up the window. I drove about 2 blocks before I turned tail and headed back the way I'd come, albeit slower than before.

I decided to pull the car into a parking space out the back of a fast food restaurant. As I turned the car off, I took a moment to calm my heartbeat and breathing, letting my mind go blank for a few moments before I reopened my eyes.

Pulling my phone from the pocket of my suit pants, I quickly sent a text to my partner, Archie. I kept in short and simple, simply saying, "Going dark. Will call when done or if I need assistance."

Sliding my phone into one of my suit jacket's interior pockets, I stepped from the car to the ground in one fluid movement, shutting the driver's side door and walking to the boot.

Lifting the boot lid, I looked at the duffle bag I had in there, before opening the case next to it that resembled something used to store a musical instrument and revealing a field stripped Compact Rifle.

Turning my hands to the zipper of the duffle, I opened it and lifted out a thirty round magazine for the small assault rifle, placing it on the floor next to the case.

After I quickly and expertly reassembled the gun, I reached into the bag which both hands, taking out a suppressor and more magazines.

Screwing the suppressor onto the end of the barrel, I slapped a clip into the gun, pulling the bolt back to chamber a round before holding the gun loosely in my hands as the familiar weight caused my mind to drift back to when I'd first met Archie.

While we started off as rivals in a way, I soon learned to drop my act of hostility and let her worm her way into my heart. Most found her slightly strange, given that she choose to identify as transgender and yet wished to be referred to as male, despite having all the anatomy of a normal woman. While I first found this strange, I soon accepted it as her choice and thought of it as slightly amusing, yet endearing and cute.

My thoughts were quickly derailed by the buzzing of my phone. Opening the message, I smiled at Archie's response, wishing me good luck and saying that she would wait for me to get home. Sighing slightly, I tucked the phone back into my pant pocket.

Running over a mental list, I checked my pistol was loaded and had spare mags. Quickly rechecking my rifle was ready to fire, I retrieved the spare magazines and fastened them to the sling that I had on over my body armor.

Satisfied that I was ready, I closed the boot and locked the car, before turning to look at Luke. Nodding to confirm he was ready, he ran his hands over the car and rapped his knuckles along the bonnet briefly before turning towards the street.

Reaching into my jacket, I took a earpiece and put it in my ear. As Luke did the same, I clicked the button to open a Bluetooth connection between Luke, Riley and myself.

"Comms check." I said, looking around the corner to see security walking towards the alleyway.

"I hear you." Riley said, as the sharp sound of a bolt being cycled registered in my ear. "I hear you both." Luke said, reaching inside his flannel button-up shirt and drawing a suppressed Combat Pistol.

Drawing my own chrome tinted Mk II Pistol that I had affectionately named 'Storm', I released the safety and spoke to Riley. "How many guards coming our way?"

Three was the response, before he added that one of them was wielding a SMG. "You got a suppressor on that rifle?" I asked, quickly formulating a plan when he responded affirmatively. "If you can get the one furthest from us, Luke and I can get the other two."

"Three, Two, One." Riley counted, Luke and I turning the corner at Two and firing on One. Through the earpiece I heard a quiet report from Riley's rifle, with all three guards going down before they could so much as draw their weapons.

Gesturing to Luke, we both dragged the bodies into the alley and rested them behind a dumpster where they wouldn't be easily seen from the road.

"You might want to get down here." I said to Riley, who answered with the crunching of stones. While Luke and I waited, I picked up both of our spent cartridges so that a civilian wouldn't see them and get curious.

When Riley arrived with his Pistol .50 drawn, I stalked towards a iron gate I'd noticed before and kicked it open, as we surged through with our weapons ready.

TBC...

A.N This will be a multiple part chapter, exactly how many parts it will have I don't know. Hope you're all enjoying yourselves.

Until next time guys.


	4. chapter 3- Part 2

A.N. Taking another long day trip interstate leaves me with a lot more time to be writing. Not that I'm complaining. I'd probably never get around to it otherwise. Anyway, I don't own GTA etc etc. Let's get right back into it.

It's Just Business- Ep 3 Part 2

The unfortunate soul on the other side of the gate must have evacuated his bowels as he died. That would certainly explain the fucking smell. Although that could also just be the LS air doing it's thing. Yeah, I'll blame the air.

While there was a moment of silence, it was definitely short-lived.

3 consecutive explosions and a peircing alarm tend to do that.

While I had hoped to maintain stealth and the element of suprise up until we had at least reached our target floor, any criticism or curses I was going to fling Riley's way died in my throat when I saw the destroyed keycard reader and the reinforced door blown off it's hinges and inside the building about a metre and a half, the bricks of plastic explosive having been placed with surgical precision, one for each hinge and one for where the handle's electric lock mechanism was housed.

He must've clocked my stunned expression, because he brought me back to earth with a smirk and a "See? I can be as precise as you, ya cocky bastard."

Flipping him off, I stepped over the threshold and responded, "Eat Me" as I did.

As we continued to listen to the alarm blar and checked the hallway ahead a thought occured to me at the same time as it did to Luke.

Turning to him, I lowered my pistol and raised my voice to shout over the alarm. "How long do you think the response time will be?"

After he thought a moment, he answered. "It depends on their relationship with the LSPD, although our little altercation before should mean that their numbers should be less, if they show up at all."

As he said that, I took notice of a small CCTV camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

Before either of my compatriots could react, I raised my pistol and quickly fired off two shots, both of them impacting near the center of the camera.

The hollow-tipped rounds tore through the thin plastic lenses and into the innards of the surveillance device, stopping with a ping as they hit the metal rear of the camera. Whether or not I had destroyed the physical backup stored on the internal chip I didn't know, but I didn't have time to worry about it either way.

Turning back around, I made to walk down the hall when I heard a groan coming from under the door.

Gesturing to Luke, we grabbed a corner each, and hauled the door off the critically injured security guard, flipping it onto the floor beside him with a thud.

While it was clear that he wasn't going to last much longer, I still decided to make it quick and put a bullet through the back of his head.

"What the hell did you do that for?!" Luke roared, standing up and reaching for his holster.

Quickly raising my own gun, I flicked my eyes left and right to check for additional company before settling my eyes back on Luke, who was glaring at me like he would like nothing better than to pull out his gun and shoot me between the eyes.

"One, lower your fucking voice. Two, don't even consider pulling that pistol or you'll be dead with a hole in your forehead before you even unholster it. Three, he was going to die anyway. I just saved him the extra pain."

Turning away from him, I kept my ears tuned for the slide of polymer on leather, in case he did disregard my warning.

Hearing nothing, I sped up my walk, turning the corner only to come face to face with another guard who must have been investigating the explosion.

While it crossed my mind about how foolish it was to only send the one guy, I soon found I didn't have the luxury of thinking as the guard raised his sidearm and ordered me to the ground.

Raising my hands above my shoulders, I lowered into a slight crouch before I sprung up and brought my hand across the barrel of the gun, pushing it diagonally down and right while jumping to my left and forwards. As he tried to bring his gun back up to shoot me, I removed my hand from the barrel and, straightening my palm so it was flat, I brought my hand up and struck him in the throat with the edge of my palm.

As he struggled to regain his breath, he was distracted enough to allow me to grab his gun with one hand and strike the joint of his elbow, bending his arm back towards his own face and twisting it behind his back.

Snatching the gun from his hand, I brought my free hand under his left armpit and up across his chest to his right shoulder. As I brought my hand gripping his pistol across the same shoulder I held, I saw another guard come out of a room only to see me and try and dive back inside.

While the tussle with my human shield had fouled the shot, my experience prevented the bullet from missing completely. As it was, the round fired with a bang that rebounded in the enclosed space and the .45 round slammed into his leg and struck bone, judging from the yell.

"You fucking missed motherfucker!" came a shout from the room, presumably from the guy I'd shot.

"Stick around arsehole!" I yelled back "I'm about to do better!"

Shoving my shield forward, I fired blindly into the drywall as I rounded the corner and shoved my shield into the guard I'd injured.

Firing three times into the lower back of my shield, I injured and immobilized both of them, raising the gun and firing into the face of the guard who had hidden on the opposite side of the door frame.

The bullet burned a hole in his skin before breaking through his skull, traveling through his brain then smashing out the back of his head in a jagged, messy exit wound and continued moving to finally rest in the hard drive which housed the backups for the ground floor's cameras.

Turning to fire on the final guard, he got in first, knocking me on my arse with a four round burst and stuffing up my aim enough to hit him in the shoulder.

While my regular body armor was only enough to prevent small arms fire, the more powerful rifle cartridge pierced it easily. The only thing that saved my life was the dinner vest I wore over my shirt.

While it appeared to just be another item of clothing, in reality it was a piece custom-built armor. The material in the vest was one that had a gel-like consistency similar to silicone. The system worked like Kevlar in that it fragments the bullet and spreads the force of the impact out over the whole vest, which solidifies upon impact and returns to gel once the impact has been dispersed.

Although it had been a costly investment, it was apparently worth it, as I got back on my feet with no pain apart from a slight ache where the high powered round had struck.

Shooting the guard twice through the chest with the last rounds from the pistol, I tossed the gun aside, before retrieving the dead man's rifle and handing it to Riley.

"Shall we?" I said, indicating to the lift with my hand.

TBC...

A.N. And another one down! I'm starting to think I'll make one more part for this chapter, but I might make it two. Anyway. Until the next time guys. I'm out.


	5. chapter 3- Part 3

A.N. I think I might make this the last part of this chapter. Anyways, don't own GTA blah blah.

It's Just Business- Ep 3 Part 3

The trip up to the top floor of the apartment was relatively mundane, once all three of us checked our sidearms were topped off with ammunition we removed the suppressors from the muzzles of all our guns. Luke and I switched to our rifles while Riley stuck with his pistol.

I can certainly see the logic behind it. A pistol requires much less room to maneuver than a rifle, could be accurately fired one-handed, and weighed a lot less than a rifle which meant less strength was required to heft it and aim accurately.

Not to mention that the fifty caliber round his pistol chambered was likely powerful enough to at least match, if not easily best, a rifle's cartridge in a duel of stopping power.

Or, in Riley's case, stopping his target dead in it's tracks, before the kinetic energy of the round sent whatever the hell it was aimed at tumbling back in the direction it came from. Minus a limb or two.

While the lift travelled the last couple of floors, my mind turned to Archie, and I found myself wishing I didn't have to do this tonight.

Not on the night of her birthday.

"Oh well." I told myself. Sometimes these things couldn't be helped, and I'd make it up to her tonight and tomorrow. At least that's what I told myself.

Whether or not it actually happened would depend on how quick we finished up here and got our payment off of Jimmy.

Jesus H Christ.

Jimmy Frank Morgan.

No I'm not fucking bullshitting. Believe me, I wish I was.

If you weren't supposed to trust a guy with two first names for his name, a guy with three shouldn't even be aware of your existence.

His father had been the head of the American mafia before his untimely demise. Fortunately for the mob though, Frank 'Frankie' Morgan had already divided the rule of the country between those he trusted most.

Among those were his two sons, Henry Anthony Morgan and Jimmy Frank Morgan.

Jimmy being the younger of the two was given uncontested control of the mob's operations in the city of Los Santos.

Henry took over the city of Liberty. Known to you and I as Liberty City.

Both men quickly proved to be as brutal as they were efficient when it came to territory disputes and other crews trying to muscle in on their rackets.

The one key difference between them was slight, yet had a ripple effect greater than most earthquakes.

Henry, being the older one, sought to abide by the old, and much more merciful, ways.

Jimmy however, made no attempt to even display a facade of restraint. He ruthlessly crushed the pockets of resistance in the city, and had a fair crack at bringing the desert of Blaine County to heel as well.

Possibly the only thing that prevented him from bringing the vast majority of San Andreas under his control or, at least watch, was everybody's favourite homicidal maniac, Trevor Phillips.

As brutal and, admittedly, crazy as Jimmy was, even he soon learnt not to fuck with Trevor Phillips Enterprises.

All this soon was rendered moot however, as the lift dinged and the metal doors opened.

A.N. This will be the last part of Chapter 3. I hope you guys are still enjoying. Thanks to everyone for reading and continuing to stick around. Next time guys.

I'm out.


	6. chapter 4

A.N. Welcome back guys. I hope you're all enjoying the story and having a Happy New Year. As always, I don't own GTA, blah blah, copyright bullshit, blah. Let's do this.

It's Just Business- Ep 4

The instant the lift doors opened, we were already moving.

Our target's residence was at the end of the hall, and it was there we went, careful to conceal our weapons and footsteps as best we could.

When we reached the door, Luke put his ear to the keyhole and listened for any voices. He mustn't have heard any, because he raised his head and shook it, indicating as such.

As I was trying to formulate a plan in my head, Riley tapped on my shoulder and mimed shoulder charging the door when I glanced at him.

I shook my head. We weren't the only people on this floor, and need to keep as quiet as was possible because of it.

Reaching forward, I tried the door handle.

Locked. As I thought.

Raising the same hand, I rapped my knuckles on the door, and waited.

After 30 seconds, the door opened to reveal a man aged roughly mid thirties, with a pale complexion, drawn features and messy brown hair. He was dressed similar to myself, in a white button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, navy blue dress pants and a dark blue suit jacket, which was held in his right hand.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" He asked, his green eyes conveying his suspicion at our sudden intrusion.

"Nigel Manson?" I asked, relaxing when he nodded. "We're detectives with the LSPD. We would like to ask you some questions."

"Well, can I see some form of identification then?" Mr Manson asked, tensing as I reached into my jacket.

"Of course." I said, withdrawing a lanyard that bore my photo and I.D'd me as Homicide Detective Mark Dawes from the Mission Row LSPD Precinct.

"Homicide? What makes you fellas think I'd have the stones for something like that?" Nigel asked, his eyes darting between Riley, Luke and I as he sized us up.

"No-one's saying you did anything Mr Manson. This is just some routine questioning. It's our job, boring as it is." I said, reciting the line I'd told others before.

"Would you mind if we did this inside?" Riley asked, shifting from side to side as he did so. "My feet are starting to get sore."

"Oh! Of course! My apologies Detectives. Right this way." Nigel said, stepping to the side and sweeping his arm towards the interior of the apartment as he did so.

"Can I get you anything?" He asked, seeming a lot more comfortable now that we had shown our I.D's, fake as they may have been.

"Do you have a bathroom?" Luke asked, shifting his weight to give the appearance of needing to go.

Nodding, Nigel raised his arm. "Upstairs, to the right, then left of the bed." He said, nodding at Luke's "Thanks."

As Luke walked up the stairs, Nigel led Riley and I into the kitchen area where he offered us beers. I accepted. Riley declined. As Nigel leant back against the marble countertop, I heard a flushing from the upstairs bathroom.

Turning to Riley, I raised my eyebrows in a silent question. As he nodded slightly, he moved into the lounge room before turning and walking back to the kitchen.

I caught Riley's nod as I finished the beer and tossed the bottle in the bin. The footsteps behind me must have been Luke's, judging by the heavy sound of his bootfalls.

"Shall we get started with these questions Detective?" Nigel asked, raising his eyebrows and offering me another beer, which I refused with a shake of my hand.

"Just before we do that Mr Manson. Is there anyone else here who can testify as to the truth of your answers?" I asked, quietly releasing a held breath when he answered.

"Just my girlfriend. But I think she's sleeping upstairs, and I'd rather not wake her." Nigel answered, glancing to the stairs as he said it.

"Was she upstairs?" I asked Luke, not addressing him by name so as not to reveal our true identities to Nigel.

"Indeed she was. Sleeping like an **angel**." Luke answered, the way he emphasized angel making me think he was being far more literal than he was letting on.

"Alright then Mr Manson. But there's one more thing you should know." I said, drawing my pistol and pointing it at him. "We're not detectives. In fact, we're much worse. We're men under the employ of Jimmy Morgan. You know him?"

It wasn't a question so much as a statement. I could easily tell he knew Jimmy by the way his face paled even more than it already was, and he swallowed suddenly as his throat dried up.

"Right. Ok." Nigel said, his voice hoarse and weak. "Any way I can convince you not to shoot me?"

"You can take that pistol out of its holster. Slowly. Then place it on the counter behind you." I said, keeping my pistol leveled at his chest in case he tried anything.

"Go and lay on the couch Nigel." I directed him, following him around the bench to the lounge room couch and scooping up his gun as I did so.

As he laid down I picked up a cushion and held it in both hands as I pressed it against his head, squashing it between the cushion and the couch.

"Now Nigel. **Nigel.** Listen to me carefully." I said as he started to struggle. "Can you hear me clearly?"

Beat.

Nod.

"Alright. Now, do you want to force us to get your girlfriend involved in this?" I asked, maintaining the downward pressure on the cushion as I did so.

Beat.

Muffled sobbing.

"Now Nigel." I warned. "You only asked us not to shoot you. You never said anything about killing you through different means, and killing you is what we're all getting paid to do. So I give you a choice. Either let us kill you quickly and quietly by smothering you. Or force us to drag your girlfriend down here and watch us mutilate you."

More sobbing.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked, cupping a hand to my ear. "You said bring your girl down and go to town on her first?"

Muffled screams mixed with sobs.

"Well, I guess, since you insist on not doing that, we won't. Now one last thing. Nigel?"

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

Nod.

"I lied to you." I said, pulling out my pistol and pressing it into where his forehead would be while flattening the muzzle against the pillow. "Your girlfriend's already out of the way."

With that, I pulled the hammer back and squeezed the trigger.

There was a muffled bang as the sound from the gunpowder igniting were absorbed by the feathers that were contained in the cushion.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Hollywood tactics? Really?" Luke asked, looking skeptically between me and the recently deceased Mr Manson.

"Hey, it worked didn't it?" I said, slightly defensively. "One of the few things that the movie industry got right."

"Anyway, let's get out of here." I said, heading towards the apartment door before turning my head towards Luke. "Is the girlfriend dead?"

"Shouldn't be." He replied, holding the door for Riley and I before shutting it and walking through to the lift. "I only used a chloroform rag."

"Is she going to turn into another one of those loose ends that you seem to have an endless supply of?" I asked, raising my eyebrows as I holstered my pistol.

"I shouldn't think so." Luke said. "She was already out of it when I went up to the bathroom. She won't wake up for another six hours, easy."

"I hope you're right. For her sake." I said, flicking my eyes to the floor counter as the lift dinged, signaling that it had reached the ground floor. "I shouldn't like to try and reinfiltrate this place, not after the mess we caused tonight."

"Do you think that anyone next door heard anything?" Riley asked, speaking for the first time since we'd left the room. "Because that could definitely prove to be a problem."

"I don't reckon." Luke said, gesturing upwards as he did. "You heard how silent the shot was. No chance in hell you'd be able to hear that through the wall."

As he finished speaking, we walked out the main lobby door.

"I'll see you guys at Jimmy's." Riley said, walking in the opposite direction from Luke and I.

"Shall we head to Jimmy's place?" I asked Luke, nodding when he did. "Off we go then."

We went back to where I'd parked the car, and pulled out to hear a symphony of sirens break out about two blocks away.

"I guess someone heard something." Luke said, sounding mildly amused as I pressed the accelerator down and took off like a burnt lizard.

"Yeah, I guess they did." I responded, checking my mirrors as I rounded the corner and over-corrected, sending the car into a slide which was quickly brought under control and corrected.

"Onwards to Jimmy's?" Luke asked, checking if I wanted to stop off and change cars.

"Onwards to Jimmy's." I confirmed, deciding that it wasn't best to be late and risk pissing him off.


	7. Chapter 5

It's Just Business- Ep 5

A.N. Well. It has been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. But, I'm finally back with more of this journey of virtual words on a virtual page. So, that's enough crap from me. Enjoy.

The Arcadius Business Centre was an imposing building to pull up to, despite displaying a somewhat colourful logo bearing the name near the topmost floors.

The tense and unsettled air only thickened further once Luke and myself had linked up with Riley and began the lift ride up to Jimmy's office.

I wondered how Jimmy would welcome us.

With stony-faced silence?

Open arms and a bottle of cognac?

Or a pair of brass knuckles and a loaded .44 Magnum Revolver?

In spite of the fact that we had completed the job, I couldn't help but lean towards the third option when I recalled the sloppiness with which we'd dispatched the building's security.

As the lift dinged and the doors slid open, I was prepared to be hauled out by the lapels and given a dressing-down.

As luck would have it, we made it all the way through the glass doors and past his assistant's desk before the sound of a scuffle breaking out reached our ears.

Turning the corner gave way to an unusual sight.

One of Jimmy's long-time business partners was being forced down on one knee while his hand was twisted into a painful-looking restraint by one of Jimmy's bodyguards.

Stowing my collapsible baton back in my pocket, I took a minute to evaluate any threats before I raised my gaze to Jimmy with a slight nod.

The years had not been kind to him and, if not for his cliché 50's mobster clothing, one could easily mistake him for an elderly businessman or a long-forgotten actor.

While it might be easy to make that assumption, with his graying hair and waxed mustache, people who did so rarely lived to make that mistake a second time.

Especially on nights like tonight, one wrong move could be enough to send him flying off the handle and sign the death warrant of everyone in the room.

Due to this, I made sure to keep my voice calm and courteous as I disregarded his guards and guest and greeted him smoothly.

"Jimmy." I said, keeping my voice neutral and like honey as the words floated the distance between the two of us.

"Patrick. Riley. Luke." He spoke in sequence, giving each of us a nod as his eyes passed over us, whether he was scanning for injuries or assessing our threat level was impossible to tell.

A silence descended upon the room, broken only by the ragged breathing of the guard and his presumably injured aggressor.

"Productive night then?" Luke asked, indicating to the only occupant on their knees.

A short silence followed, until it was broken by Jimmy as he began wheezing before breaking out into full-blown cackling.

"Productive night indeed!" Jimmy shouted between breaths.

"What do you want done with him?" Riley queried, moving a gloved hand around to the small of his back in preparation for the answer.

"No, no." Jimmy hurriedly spat. "Nothing that drastic."

"Mr Xiang here just needs to take the night off and consider where it is that his loyalty lies." The last half of the conversation was clearly directed at poor Mr Xiang.

Another silence settled as a guard took each arm and dragged him out, his feet dragging on the carpet as small droplets of red mixed with the white and black cotton.

I took the free moment to observe the room again.

Three guards, each standing an even distance from the other, staring at us with blank expressions as they sized us up.

Something's not right. Jimmy never shows any sort of emotion while conducting business.

I stared into his eyes again. Bloodshot.

I glanced at the desk. A half-full bottle of rum sitting near the edge, the cap hasn't been properly screwed on.

I glanced back at him. His clothes are more untidy than normal. He smells off.

I take a sniff as quietly as possible. Marijuana. I sniff again.

Christ. He practically reeks of the stuff. How did I not notice this before?!

Before I tear myself a new one, I look at his eyes again. Bloodshot and so unfocused I could swear he has a lazy eye.

Overall, definitely not good. Despite his heritage, he has a quietly spoken reputation of being a lightweight with his drink.

He normally keeps his temper under wraps, but nothing about tonight has been normal.

Glancing around the room again, I notice with some shock the blood dripping steadily down the wall near his safe. A guard is trying to hide it, but it's like trying to catch air with a fly swat.

This is definitely not good. I straighten up slightly and shift my hands to rest them across the buckle of my belt.

The movement attracted both my fellow co-workers attention.

Riley gave me a look that asked a thousand questions and showed no unease.

Luke followed where my gaze had been moments before and shifted on the balls of his feet as he meet my gaze and gave a slight nod.

Our host must have noticed our sudden stance change, because he raised his hand and waved as if to dismiss our observations.

"Don't concern yourselves boys." He said, his voice held less comfort and more threat than I was accustomed to.

Preparing myself for a fight, I locked eyes with Jimmy as I waited for his decision.

"Ah, fuck it." He sighed, deflating as he sat back in his chair. "You did well. The money'll come through by midday tomorrow. Now fuck off."

Grateful for an excuse to leave, I nodded at him and backed out, followed by Luke and Riley.

Waiting until we were clear of the building by several blocks, I pulled into a parking lot and faced Luke as Riley pulled up beside us and dismounted while we did the same.

"Something's happened." Luke said, glancing at Riley and me before leaning against the hood of the Cognoscenti.

"No shit Sherlock." Riley snorted, whipping his head back and forth between the two of us. "What the fuck was that back there?"

Holding my hands out in front of my chest and shoving him back as he rounded on me, I glared at him as I struggled to keep my voice level.

"Are you completely fucking thick?" I asked incredulously, stunned that he apparently hadn't noticed what Luke and I saw plain as day.

"Did you not see how stoned he was?" I spat, barely keeping my voice from yelling as I kept in mind where we were. "He was off his fucking --!"

Luke held a hand up to my chest and shook his head.

"Point is," Luke breathed "he was nowhere near stable tonight. We were lucky to get out with a tongue lashing."

Taking a deep breath, I drew my hands across my eyes before speaking back up.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you about his reputation. He hardly cuts you as a reasonable man, does he?"

"Fuck no." Riley answered, seeming calmer. "But all the same, he's our fucking boss, not our psych patient."

"I just think that we shouldn't go questioning his methods. Seems like a good way to end up on the wrong end of that magnum of his." He concluded, glancing at both of us while waiting for a response.

"I see where you're coming from." Luke said, taking a moment to consider his words. "But while it's not our job, it is in our best interests to try and keep him calm and sane. Otherwise we risk falling off the knife edge we're balancing on."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." I said, patting Luke's shoulder in approval.

"Alright, let's continue this another time. I need to have a fucking sleep." Riley said, opening his door and starting the car.

"Another time." I said, watching as he swung the door shut and tore off with a roar from the Blade's engine.

"Want a ride back to Del Perro?" I asked Luke, opening my own door as I leant against it.

"Nah." He replied, tossing his head back towards the road. "I'll get a cab."

"Alright, stay safe then. We'll talk tomorrow." I said, starting the engine.

"You too. Talk tomorrow."

As I pulled out, I glanced in the rear-view mirror at Luke as he called the taxi company.

"Home-ward bound." I said to myself, as I turned on the radio and pointed the car towards home, and the birthday girl.

A.N. Holy fucking Mary. I finally got over my writer's block and generally being a lazy shit. Anyway. I'd say cherish it guys. Cause the way I go, it'll be another twenty years before the next one.


	8. Chapter 6

It's Just Business- Part 6

A.N. How long's it been? 3 months? 4? 5?! Piss off it has. *Looks at last updated* Well... Fuck. Ah well, ya boi back at it again. As usual, don't own GTA yadda fucking yadda copyright fuckery. Let's get right the hell into it.

I'll never understand how a mugger's mind works.

I mean shit, if I saw a guy climb out of a luxury sports sedan that had clearly had some less-than-legal modifications made to it, and said guy had bruised and bloodied knuckles and a deep scowl on his face, I'd immediately turn the fuck around and scamper off in the opposite direction while praying he hadn't seen me.

But, I guess I'm not everyone.

Come to think of it, I'm certainly smarter than your average L.S gangbanger scumbag or low-life dealer.

Probably why this jumped-up Vagos fuckwit decided to jump me in the alleyway after I'd bought flowers for my beautiful partner and demanded I hand over my wallet. Except with a lot more Spanish expletives than that.

I tried explaining how I had to get home for my girlfriend and how he was annoying me by holding me up.

To which he replied, "You think I give a fuck about your _pinche puta!?_ "

Now, I'll admit, I don't know much Spanish. But even I know what _pinche puta_ translates to.

After calmly asking him to watch his mouth, which he didn't, I sighed lightly and brought my wallet out. As he reached for it, I threw it at his face.

As he raised both hands instinctively, I charged forward and slammed my hand into his throat, lifting him off his feet and smashing him onto his back.

Taking advantage of his dazed state, I kicked the knife with my foot, sending it skittering under a nearby dumpster, before bringing my other foot down on his solar plexus.

Hard.

As he brought his hands up to grab my foot, I brought my hand out of my jacket, holding my pistol.

Still.

Silence.

Sobbing.

I stayed where I was for a few seconds, unmoving, simply watching as this kid cryed his eyes out while mumbling half-forgotten prayers in Spanish.

"You know, any other night, and your head would already be letting in daylight."

Blubbering.

Desperate begging.

"But."

"Not tonight. It's not even worth my time or effort." I said, lifting my foot off his chest while slowly bending down and scooping my wallet up, keeping my gun leveled all the while.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Bu-.

"Evening sweetheart."

A smooth, velvety voice flowed into my ear.

"Keeping the locals honest I see." A small smirk was heard.

Glancing around, I was unsuprised to see a semi-circular CCTV staring right back at me.

Shrugging slightly, I responded amusingly, "Well, this particular local needs to learn to keep his mouth shut around tired fucks with guns."

"Who are you speaking about?" The heavily accented English caught me slightly off guard, I'd almost forgotten about my guest.

"The one whose going to decide if you're still breathing in a minute's time." I responded calmly, checking my suppressor was attached properly.

Silence.

Waiting.

A clink of glass.

Reacting with a speed that suprised even me, I shifted my gaze up and left, sighting a terrified looking hobo walking around the corner with her hands raised.

"What did you see?"

"Who said that?!"

"Smart lady."

Flicking my gaze back to my Mexican friend, I heard the old girl open the dumpster and climb inside.

"Oh bugger it."

Holstering my gun, I brought my wallet back out, holding three $100 notes out to the kid, who pushed himself quickly to his feet and made to grab the money before I pulled my hand back slightly.

"You got family?"

"Yes sir. My mama, sister and two baby brothers."

"Buy them dinner. Go home and tell them you love them. If I see you pulling this shit again, they'll be needing the money for a casket and a preist. Si?"

"Yes sir, thank you sir. I promise you will never see me again. Thank you."

Walking to my car once he'd exited the alley, I was only reminded about my phone when I felt the device vibrate in the center console.

A: "Forget about me?" /

P: "On your bday!? What kind of bf would I be?" :P

A: "See you soon?"

P: "20 or less, traffic permitting."

A: "Roads clear, try 15."

A: "Nice roses btw. Bit cliche, but still cute."

P: "Next time I'll wear a neon sign saying what I got. Save you the trouble." XD ;)

A: "Smartass." :P

P: "Don't pretend like you didn't laugh."

A: "Who's spying on who here?" :O

P: "Clearly I'm too much of a gentleman to be spying on a lady!" XP

A: "..."

A: "..."

A: "You keep telling yourself that Princess."

P: "!! Clearly I'm a Queen!"

A: "What does that make me then?"

P: "..."

P: "The Queen's scandalous secret lesbian lover..."

A: "Patrick!!" XD

A.N. I hope someone laughed at that. Otherwise it's only me... Yeah... Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this. See you in another 5 months.

Until next time guys.


	9. chapter 7

It's Just Business- Part 7

A.N. I don't even want to think about how damn long it's been since I touched this. But ahh well. Back at it. Ya Boi. Let's bloody well go.

Pulling up to my apartment, I grabbed my duffle from the trunk and slung it over my shoulder as I stepped into the elevator and rode it up to my level.

Walking out, I drew level with my door and unlocked it. Coming into the kitchen, I heard the door 3 floors down creak open. Creeping up the stairs into our bedroom with a glass of whiskey in hand, I gently lowered my bag onto the floor.

Taking my gloves and jacket off and laying them on the covers, I picked my glass back up and gently nudged the door open. As I stood at the top of the stairs I heard her soft footfalls quickly but methodically approaching me.

"You know, you say you don't look sexy with a .45 in your hand, but that's not how it looks from here."

Yawning barrel.

Frantic eyes.

Tensed muscles.

Then, realisation.

Slowly expanding pupils.

Slumped shoulders.

One hand falls from the grip to rest on her slender hip.

Barrel's still fixed on my chest.

I flick my eyes from the muzzle to her eyes, and cock an eyebrow.

"O-Oh. Sorry."

Face-splitting grin.

She's so cute when she stutters. Makes her more nervous and that means she stutters more.

Gripping the barrel, I gently pull the weapon out of her hands into my own.

I eject the magazine.

18 rounds.

I frown.

I pull the slide back.

No casing flies out to meet me.

I glance up.

Sheepish eyes meet mine.

"You were planning on shooting the intruder with the air in the chamber?"

I know smartass. You don't have to tell me."

"Uh huh. Sure"

A ghost of a smile crossed my face, before becoming sombre again.

"You realize what would of happened if I wasn't the one in the house?"

sigh* "Yes dear."

"Then you know why that worries me?"

"Bold of you to assume you'd beat me to the draw." She gloats, a smug grin on her face

"Like you did a month before we got together?"

A flicker of hurt crosses her face.

Stupid.

Dumbass.

She sniffles.

"You know I regret it." Her voice creaks, then breaks as tears start to spill down her cheeks.

Sigh.

I cross to her, dropping the gun to the left of us.

"I know you do beautiful. And you know I didn't mean to hurt you by bringing it up."

"I know."

Beat.

"I know you think the scar's sexy though."

"Heh. Yeah, maybe a little."

Silence embraces us for a moment, as we do the same to each other. I hug her head into the crook of my neck, before bring my arms across her upper back and waist, enveloping her in my arms.

I sigh.

Not out of tension, but contentment.

Archie does the same.

This feels right.

To fit into one another's arms after a long day at work.

We seperate and walk into the kitchen where I left the roses in a vase as I walked in.

"Thanks for them by the way."

I turn and see a fond smile on her face. I walk across and kiss her lips gently.

"Even though you saw me getting them, you're more than welcome." I say as I kiss her again.

She giggles.

"What do you feel like for dinner?"

"Depends, you cooking?"

"Like hell." I say, grin fixed back in place.

"Chinese?"

"Beef and Blackbean?"

"Lemon Chicken too!"

"Knew there was another reason besides your good looks why I loved you."

"You're ordering."

"As we speak."

*40 minutes later*

After paying the delivery driver, plus a tip, I got the food and set it on plates on the table.

We normally sit at opposite ends of the table due to our clashing elbows, but today we sat next to each other, and managed to keep our table manners moderate.

As I cleared the plates and placed the leftovers in the fridge, Archie got my attention and indicated to my glass of whiskey, as she held up her wine glass.

"Here's to an awesome birthday with my awesome boyfriend, and many more to come."

I smiled at her words as we clinked our glasses and drank our respective drinks.

"Hear, hear."

We embraced and kissed slowly, only pulling away when she was out of breath.

Pulling out her phone, she looked me dead in the eyes as she said: "That's one of three ways you're going to take my breath away tonight. Second happens now."

Classical music filled the room as she walked up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck and placed a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Third happens when we get to the bedroom."

A smirk came onto my face.

"Well now, you'd better have been keeping up on your cardio then."

She pulled my tie off and brought my hands to her hips.

"Shut up and dance with me."

"As you wish darling."

For the next 45 minutes we danced. Slow dances, fast, solo and couples dances, only stopping for a drink and to capture each others lips over and over.

After that we called it a night and headed up to the bedroom.

Feigning tiredness, I stripped down to my underwear before jumping into bed.

She tapped my cheek.

"You thought you were going to get out of it, didn't you?"

"Awwww but I'm getting tired."

"You mean you're getting old."

I'm going to make sure she limps for a week.

A.N. Thanks for tuning in again guys. Sorry for the wait. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things with how much I'm working lately.

See y'all next time.


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